I haven’t owned a swimming suit in over 11 years. The mere thought of one sends shivers down my spine. The last time I went swimming was in 1999 at a friend’s lake house. We were walking up the trail to get back to the house after swimming and my “friend” told me I should start working out more because I was starting to get some extra fat on my thighs. We’re not friends anymore.
Since then, I’ve gained a few pounds and suffer the heat of every summer behind long pants and baggy shirts hoping no one will notice how fat I’ve gotten. Not this year. I quit. No more hiding. I’m obviously not going to be a supermodel so I’ll just keep trying to get healthier and hope for the best. Those are the words of a confident woman, right? It’s amazing how confidence can ease into terror so quickly over one small comment.
Two days ago, I was informed that my sister (whom I love dearly) would like to take my son swimming. At first, I was terrified. He can’t swim. He could drown! What if an ambulance couldn’t get there fast enough? I know CPR, but could I remember it in that situation? All of those horrible thoughts ran through my head in about ½ second. Then a new fear started to creep into my subconscious and terrified me even more. What if he wanted me to swim with them? Oh no…I couldn’t. No one should be subjected to seeing me in a swimming suit, but I can’t go in the pool in shorts and a t-shirt (pool rules). He’d be so disappointed. I can’t disappoint my child. I’d do anything for him. Wait…does ‘anything’ include wearing a swimming suit? Crap.
I went onto Target’s website to see if they carry swim suits in my size. I got to the swim suit section and realized that I have no idea what ‘my size’ is! I saw some sizes that were the same as my pants size and figured that had to be close so I checked store availability for one suit that I thought might work. I entered our zip code and clicked go. I closed my eyes and willed the screen to come back with “None available”. I slowly opened my eyes and saw “Available”. Darn. So, I loaded my daughter into the stroller and my husband, son, and I walked down to Target.
My husband and son went to find water wings and swimming diapers. My daughter, who was happily playing in her stroller and blissfully unaware of the turmoil her mother was facing, went along for the ride when I took her to the swimming suit section of the store. I grabbed 5 suits that I thought might work. I hooked the hangers over my arm and pushed the stroller towards the dressing room. The attendant pointed me towards the family dressing room and I let myself in. I parked my daughter in the corner and locked the door. I hung the suits on the hook on the wall and started to undress.
I took the first suit off of the hanger and put it on with my back to the mirror. I looked at my daughter and asked her what she thought. She blew me a raspberry. I turned around and looked in the mirror. I agreed with her and blew myself a raspberry. That suit was wishful thinking. Too loose on top, too tight in the rear, and showed way too much stomach. I wanted to cry. I sat down on the bench and felt the tears well up. I looked at my daughter and silently cursed society that deemed it cute for my 6 month old to have rolls of fat, but grotesque if I have them. Then I thought to myself that I hope she never feels like she has to hide. She’s beautiful inside and out no matter what anyone else says. At that moment, it dawned on me…take your own advice, stupid!!
Boldly, I stood up and changed into the other suits. Each one worse than the last. Just as I was about to give up hope, I turned around to face the demon in the mirror that was wearing a one piece skirted black swimming suit. I immediately braced myself for the internal battle that ultimately ends in my own defeat. I looked at myself in the mirror. Not bad. Turned around…ok, not so good. Turned sideways…ok. I asked my daughter what she thought…she started crying. Yeah, that made me feel good! I decided that this was the one regardless of what my little girl thought. I calmed the baby, dressed, and walked out of the dressing room with a new confidence. I actually smiled as I put the swimming suit into the cart along side the kids' swimming items.
I realized in the 15 minutes we were in there that I need to look at myself as I look at my kids. I think they are amazing, beautiful, and capable of anything. If I want them to love themselves, have confidence, and be strong people…I need to show them how. I need to be their example. I need to be what I hope they will become. Even if that means wearing a swimming suit in public.
Sorry public.
(originally written July 1, 2010 by me)
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